Back in January of 93 I received a call from a friend
of mine, Ted, who lived two hours south of me in
Birmingham Alabama. Ted and I had been friends for a
couple years, taking roadtrips, and crossing paths at
demos and contests. Ted was moving to California,
heartland of skateboarding, and needed a navigator for
the three-day hellride. So of course I said yes,
dropped out of winter term, got a refund and was out
the door. When I arrived in Birmingham, Ted enlisted
me to help finish his last batch of shirts for his
fledgling company (REN),which he was staking his
future on. The plan was to make it to the ASR trade
show in San Diego, which started in four days. Ted had
been scrambling to finish his catalog and tie up other
loose ends working 16-hour days at his screenprinting
job for the last week. We rolled out of town a little
behind schedule but at least we were on our way.
Somewhere in Texas, Ted?s truck decided it did not
like shifting gears anymore, and the adventure began.
We finally figured out that if we stopped the truck
after every downshift and floored it we could cruise
at about 50 mph ...maybe. At that rate we were not
exactly making record time, so we pulled over at a
rest stop to sleep. Ted took the penthouse suite under
the campershell while I opted for the luxurious vinyl
bench seat. There is nothing quite like waking to the
sounds of weedwhackers, it was kind of like Apocalypse
Now except freezing outside. Time for Dairy Queen, in
case you have not traveled through Texas, I think they
own it. We resumed the break neck pace of the stopping
and flooring it routine until Ted could not take it
anymore. We exited at Sweetwater and looked for help.
We found an auto parts store, and being the mechanical
geniuses we are we bought a bottle marked "automatic
transmission service" Somehow we knew this magical
elixir would heal the truck. Wrong. The next stop was
Odessa, just down the interstate. A nameless mechanic
listen to us babble about the truck. He took a screw
driver turned a knob and said, "that should do it."
Doubtful, we asked him how much we owed him and his
reply was a handshake. It was fixed, we were stoked,
and on our way. By Friday evening we had made to a
little town in New Mexico named Deming, I'll never
forget it. We pulled in for a dinner break and that
would be the last time I would ever see that truck. No
not stolen, but down for the count, the timing chain
had jumped or something like that, the truck was
spent. Ted and I road in style, chauffeured to The
Grand Hotel of Deming in the cab of a wrecker, $29.95
not bad for the nicest room in town, we were living
large. It was now Saturday morning as Ted and I sat in
the waiting room of the mechanic, like the parents of
a critically injured son. "He is going to make it" the
doctor announced, we can have you guys on the road by
5pm Monday! The ASR show would be long over by then,
and Ted's hopes of smuggling his catalog in would be
too. We walked back to the hotel and started making
the calls, planes, trains and automobiles, I could
only wish John Candy would save us now. We both knew
what we had to face the bus. We packed down into two
bags and headed for the station. It was seventeen
hours of B.O., exhaust, port-o-potty, McDonalds, smoke
and bad company, some of these people had been on the
bus for three days. We were on some Florida -
California express at least that is what they called
it. Ted and I were soon sucked into the seething
underworld of bus travel, like two fresh inmates
tossed into the pen. I do not think I have been
offered more contraband than on that bus. I was dry
heavy half the time, and I was one of the sober ones.
One woman in particular felt it was her duty to
serenade the bus with the theme from COPS at the top
of her lungs. I can still hear her slightly Spanish
accent slurring through a Jamaican ...bad boys bad
boys what you gonna do... Somewhere in the middle of
nowhere our driver (praise him) convinced the woman it
was her stop, and we just left her. It was some
strange hostage-bonding thing as we pulled away and
the entire bus simultaneously erupted in applause.
Touching isn't it. Needless to say, I had to spend
almost all my cash to have this experience. 7am and we
arriving at the San Diego downtown station. Luckily we
are only a couple blocks from the convention center so
we stow our gear in a locker and walk down. After
three hours of waiting Ted and I are denied entry due
to lack of "proper industry credentials", personally I
think it was our smell. Ted just turns to me
terminator style and says, "I'll be back." A couple
hours later Ted returns, and hands me a business card.
It reads, "Neil Brown Vice President of Sales". Kinkos
saves the day. In the flash of a card I am transformed
into a "right this way Mr. Brown" and we are in! We
get in and split up - commence schmoozing. While Ted is
slipping catalogs and shirts the right way I plant
myself in front of the bikini show. I left California
a week later due to personality conflicts with the
state, Ted stayed to pursue his dream. It did not take
long for Ted's dreams to turn into nightmares as he
struggled with REN, freelancing and just making ends
meet. Paying a couple hundred bucks a month to sleep
in a garage, things were not looking good. Ted soon
started climbing the ladder of success as he moved
into a utility closet under some stairs. When the
nights were chilly and Ted felt alone the rodents
would always be there for him. Ted stuck to his guns
and was determined to make it. Through a combination
of being the right person, and knowing the right
people Ted got the break he needed to show his talent.
Now you know him as the Art Director, Video Creator
and all round goodguy at TWS. I wrote this story for
two reasons: 1. So you would know a little history, 2.
So you could see a little of the future. Ted is about
to embark on another cross country journey to NYC.
Only this time things are a little different, you see
, he is going for You. Ted does not have to leave his
new found home and friends, but he chose to. Ted will
be establishing TWS NYC to broaden the horizons of
skateboarders everywhere. With that I want to wish him
the best of luck and I hope you will too.